


Love Letters

by Batkatbrown



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Love Letters, M/M, Pining, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 16:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15667035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batkatbrown/pseuds/Batkatbrown
Summary: The first letter Jesse found, he was sure someone was playing a cruel joke on him. Staring at the neatly written message and fighting down a sudden tightness in his throat.You walk upon moonlightYour eyes are starsYour laugh is the sun at high noon.Jesse smoothed the fine paper between his fingers. The words blurred in front of him and he had to look away. No one had ever written anything like it about him. His only record marked down in numbers of kills and missions completed.





	Love Letters

Letter One

The first letter Jesse found, he was sure someone was playing a cruel joke on him. Staring at the neatly written message and fighting down a sudden tightness in his throat.

_You walk upon moonlight_

_Your eyes are stars_

_Your laugh is the sun at high noon._

Jesse smoothed the fine paper between his fingers. The words blurred in front of him and he had to look away. No one had ever written anything like it about him. His only record marked down in numbers of kills and missions completed.

Never had anyone written poetry about him.

It had to be a joke. Someone wanting to see the resident Fool fluttering and twitterpated at a few words of praise.

The lighter clicked open but Jesse couldn’t quite bring himself to burn it. Tucking the crisp white page back into the unmarked envelope, he slipped it between the mattress and box spring and promptly forgot about it.

If it had been a joke, there was no punchline. No one made fun of the outdated cowboy as he quietly made his way through autumn. They gave him space most of the time and he was grateful. There was no denying he liked to flirt and play the rogue when in public.

It was easy to pretend.

Only alone did his true heart make itself known. He smothered it in smoke as he sat on the walk over on the Gibraltar base. The sun was setting, warm on his side and the wind carried away the curling wisps.

The soft tap, tap, tap of Hanzo’s feet gave him away. Or rather, were a courteous warning of his approach. Jesse knew the archer could be completely silent if he wished.

He offered a cigar wordlessly. A flask was set in his hand in response.

Warmth rumbled against his left side as the archer settled close. “Usin’ me as a wind block?”

“Perhaps,” Hanzo’s eyes danced with amusement. Or maybe it was just the flash of a lighter sparking and the cherry tip of the cigar.

Jesse tried to rally. He knew Hanzo was trying to help him, maybe even offer comfort. All he could manage was a weak smile and tip of his hat. The red of sunset on the stones of the base reminded him of blood.

Hanzo did not leave his side, sharing vices wordlessly. Jesse was forbidden to drink and Hanzo banned from smoking. Mercy would harass them and inject them with all kinds of medical gunk when she found out.

Athena would be updated to monitor what they brought into the base.

Jesse was cold and aching when he finally left the walk under the thoughtful eyes of the moon. He only noticed later that Hanzo’s scarf was wrapped around his neck. He made a note to return it but it fell from his nicotine stained fingers before he crumpled to the sheets.

It disappeared to live among the dust bunnies under his bed.

 

Letter Two

Thanksgiving was a hectic affair on base. Half of the gang leaving on undercover flights to the far flung lands where family awaited. Hana was giddy to go back to Korea, promising to return with souvenirs and Lucio was packing for Brazil. There was family there for him and the fans and friends that had helped launch his career.

Torbjorn’s gang of redheaded children poured into diserted bedrooms and the base came alive with activity. There were others, from members outside the tight knit group McCree knew. Children with wide eyes racing down the halls. The pop of toy guns sent shivers down Jesse’s spine and he removed himself from the nerf gun wars.

There was no family for him to go to. He had lost track of them a decade ago and there was little hope they were still alive. If they did survive, they were better off without him.

“Jesse, join us!”

The cowboy flinched when the ninja grabbed his shoulder.

“Peace,” Hanzo quieted his brother. “Forgive his enthusiasm. We would be honored if you would join us on a drive.”

“Where to?” Jesse rubbed his face, trying to clear the ever lingering line between his eyebrows.

“Nowhere in particular.”

“Just take in the scenery and test out the new all terrain jeeps Winston got us.” Genji’s smile creased his cheeks. “Maybe stop and get some food.”

Jesse considered turning the Shimada brothers down, afraid of intruding between the tight knit siblings. Feeling out of place just standing between them in the hallway. A burning in his throat needed to be soothed.

“Maybe next time,” Jesse tipped his hat apologetically. “Have fun you two.”

The brothers let him go with only forlorn looks to hint he had let them down. Let himself down as well.

The thoughts ran endless loops in his head as he laid in bed hours later. Liquor sloshed in his stomach and smoke floated against the ceiling. The smoke detector snipped out of the drop tiles and smashed on the floor. He’d get in trouble for it later.

For now he needed the comfort of his sins.

When he woke late in the light of a muddy sunset, there was a crisp, white envelope slipped under his door. His fingers shook as he smoothed the paper and read the neat script.

_My heart longs for you, to see your smile._

_If only I could hold a mirror to you_

_So that you could see how you shine_

_From the cracks_

_Golden_

 

Letter Three

Jesse was spared the hardship of living on base through a holiday by a mission. He packed his bag, checked his gun kit and was on the transport before the first whiff of pumpkin pie could be found in the kitchen.

“You ready, luv?” Tracer zipped passed him up the ramp, in street clothes with a thick scarf around her neck.

“Where’s Em?” His voice came out low and hoarse, doubtlessly played as his gruff charm. Not from remaining silent for too long. “Aint like ya t’take a mission when you could be home.”

“Emily’s got to work but we’re going to be together for christmas,” She kicked her feet against the rungs of the mesh and metal seats. “I’m already plannin’ what i’m going to give her. I gotta make it extra special!”

Jesse nodded, content to rest his head against the wall and just listen. Lena was easy to be around. She needed little encouragement to fill the space and her positivity was welcome against his gloom.

By the end of the flight, Jesse was holding her yarn while she knit away. He was sure Emily would appreciate the handmade gift.

 

A week later and talon had been pushed back from Castillo and Jesse was back at Gibraltar. In the medbay with stitches running across his chest and a cast on his leg. The IV dripped golden nanites into his flesh arm and the tv in front of his bed murmured constantly.

He was nearly convinced he needed his own soda brewing kit from a repeat infomercial even if he prefered tea over carbonated drinks. There were flowers by his bed and cards and even a balloon of a teddy bear wearing a cowboy hat. It was for a six year old’s birthday party but he liked it just fine.

Angela worked at the end of the medbay, the beds mostly empty. There was an IT guy resting up after a fall working on the base antenna and a sweet older lady who worked in the cafeteria was fighting the flu.

There was a chair drawn up at his side, though whoever had been sitting by his side had disappeared before he had woken today. The same had happened the day before and the first day he had swam to the surface of consciousness.

“Hey, Angie?” He croaked, reminded that he’d been taking his liquids through a tube.

“Yes, Mr McCree?” the squeal of her chair’s sticky wheel made him flinch.

It was good to see her face though, even if he had to squint to bring her into focus. “You know you can call me, Jesse. Don’t hardly seem right t’have such a pretty lady being formal.”

“Alvays the flirt,” she waved him off with a hand. Rising from her chair to walk to his side.

“Just a sign i’m alive and kickin’, darlin’.”

“Indeed, I am glad to see you looking more present today.”

Jesse smiled though his eyes drifted to the empty cup on his bedside table.

Angela seemed to guess his question. “You are not suppose to have had visitors. But someone has been sneaking in when i’m not looking.”

Jesse nodded, eyelids growing heavy. He didn’t notice the doctor increasing his pain medication, attention focused on a single long black hair. It was stark against the white of the sheets drawn up to his chest.

He was asleep before he could draw a conclusion from the hint. Angela cleared it and the cup away. If the man wanted to make himself known, he would in good time.

Jesse grumbled at having to use a wheelchair. Fighting with Dr. Ziegler that he could handle himself with some crutches while his leg healed up. It was all for naught and he was in a chair now. A potted cactus that had been left on his bedside table balanced on his lap, the note attached to it just as mysterious as whoever had been sleeping in the chair beside him.

_You pointed the gun_

_To my budding heart_

_The barrel smokes_

_I burn_

The crisp white paper was tucked into his breast pocket, over the raw tender scar still forming. He couldn’t stop touching the spot as he wheeled himself down the hall. Taking time to rest when he got tired, the journey took longer than it should.

Angela had offered to have a nurse push him but his pride had snarled at that. There was only so much humiliation a man could take before he broke down. His body was not as convinced when he struggled to get the chair through the sliding door to his room.

Athena oh so helpfully telling him to remove the obstruction to the door and trying to close it on him. “Fuck,” he smacked the metal with his left arm, the ringing hurting his ears.

Tears threatened to rise in his throat and he gulped around them. He needed a drink.

He leaned back, head falling weakly over the leather. A familiar sight appeared to his left and Jesse cursed.

Of course it would be Genji. And where Genji was--

Hanzo stepped from the room on que. The laughter on their lips died in unison.

“McCree!”

“Jesse,” Hanzo started towards him but faltered. Genji was caught by a strong hand on his arm.

“Howdy,” Jesse wheezed, shrinking smaller if possible. “Don’t mind me.”

“You weren’t suppose to be released until this evening.” Hanzo’s voice was deep and melodic, as if each word was chosen with care. “Genji, I will meet you in the usual spot.”

Genji seemed to consider something cheeky before ducking his head and jogging off.

“Didn’t have t’make him leave. He’s already seen the pity party.”

“Hm, perhaps.” Hanzo drifted to his side, eyes too soft, too kind.

Jesse’s heart clenched, a black hole yawning inside him. He kept his gaze resolutely ahead.

If he was going to get wheeled around like some decrepit old man, he would just have to fucking wall himself off to it.

“Here,” Hanzo offered his hand. He was slightly stooped, hair falling in a curtain from his left shoulder. Jesse found himself accepting it without realizing he had moved. Pulled carefully to his feet, he leaned on the sturdy archer.

Surprised by the ease the man took his weight despite knowing Hanzo was his equal or superior in strength. It was different to feel it in the iron muscle against his side and the gentleness offered as they walked into the room.

Jesse’s cast was heavy and he moved his leg awkwardly. “Chair,” he grunted, not eager to get in a bed again so fast. The armchair was settled with a good view out of the window and he basked in the sunlight.

The cactus was placed on the sill and Hanzo set the wheelchair within easy reach.

Jesse struggled to find the words to thank you but his chest was too tight.

Hanzo left with a small bow and Jesse was alone again.

The note against his sternum was a balm against the wounds on his heart.

 

Letter Four

The fourth letter came on christmas eve, somehow slide into Jesse’s horrible christmas sweater’s pocket when he wasn’t looking. Eggnog sweet and burning on his lips, he had faltered in a laugh when his fingers brushed the folded piece of paper.

Heat flushed to his cheeks, brighter than the spiked drink and he quickly jerked away. No one was going to see him lose his cool for the joke that would not end. “Real funny,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest instead.

“What is funny?” Genji asked, a string of battery operated christmas lights wrapped around his head.

“Did you say somethin’, love?” Tracer was quick to join in without taking her arm from Emily’s waist.

“Nothin’,” Jesse rolled his eyes and went back to nursing his drink. The party was still getting wound up, the younger members playing a dancing game. Jack, Ana and Rien were all piled on a couch watching a vintage movie where a kid shot his eye out. Most of the other members were off for family time and it had been up to them to cook.

Hanzo had surprisingly stepped up in the lack of non-military personnel and prepared a massive spread of both traditional Japanese foods and something that could be called Southern Comfort Food. THe smell made his mouth water and his eyes drifted to where Hanzo worked in the kitchen. He had forbidden anyone to help, brandishing a deadly sharp knife right between Jesse’s eyes earlier.

He wasn’t in a hurry to get too close again.

They all ended up at the long table to share the meal and something stuck in Jesse’s heart gave just a little bit. It helped that he was sat next to Hanzo, no realizing how it had ended up that way. He was grateful though, able to lean a bit closer to ask questions about what he was eating.

As the night went on and his belly was filled with mashed sweet potatoes and thick slabs of ham and enough cornbread to feed a village soaking up the alcohol, he leaned deeper into the man.

His head was heavy and the world swaying. It was the simplest thing to rest his cheek on Hanzo’s broad, muscular shoulder. Half expecting Hanzo to brush him off with a huff about boundaries in public but instead, Hanzo’s arm lifted to wrap around his shoulders.

“You should slow down, Jesse.” Warm, honeyed words fell into his ear and he grumbled. “Or I will have to carry you to bed.”

“Could come t’my bed anytime,” Jesse slurred and hoots went up around the table. Half surprised he was flirting with a man and half horrified he would chose the stoic archer.  

“Get a room, you’re gross!” Hana squealed, sticking her tongue out at them.

“I’m tryin’.”

“Genji, will you assist me in getting agent McCree to his room?”

“Shit,” Jesse grunted but didn’t fight much. He was tired. So tired that even his bones felt heavy. He let himself be pulled to his feet and strong arms bracketed him on either side. The brothers chatted in Japanese above his head as they slowly headed to his room.

Hanzo’s face was red when they got to the door. Genji shrugged him off and left them.

It took Jesse a few tries to get his hand on the scanner, slumping into the handsome archer.

Hanzo bore it with a saint’s patience, not commenting as they staggered to the bed

Jesse dragged him down into the sheets, wrapping the source of warmth and comfort selfishly. The heat of Hanzo’s shoulder and chest pressed against his face, the thin tshirt doing little to block it. His legs parted instinctively, welcoming Hanzo between his knees with a husky laugh. The ceiling spun in circles around him.

“Jesse.” The name a whisper in the dark, muffled in Jesse’s wild hair. “What are you doing?”

“I dun know.” Jesse’s lips brushed along Hanzo’s collarbone, marveling at the sculpted line. He’d been with a man before but it’d been so long ago he’d forgotten the heady feeling of being crushed to the mattress by a solid brick of muscle.

“You’re drunk.” Hanzo tried to lift himself off and for a moment, Jesse ached to keep him there. Bodies crushed together, heat and musk and the burn of whiskey soaked lips were temptations almost too strong to resist.

When his arms loosened, Hanzo broke out of his hold immediately to get to his feet.

Lightning shattered his heart and Jesse flung himself aside, dragging the blanket over himself. “Get out.”

“Jesse…”

“I said get t’fuck out. I hear ya loud ‘n clear.”

Hanzo left and Jesse was alone with frustrated tears. He threw the note out without reading it. He wouldn’t be fooled.

 

-

Letter Five

Jesse stared out at the new year from atop a tower in china, guarding a central chamber housing massive servers and computers more complicated than he could try to understand. The rescued note sat in his breast pocket, smashed to his skin under his heavy armor plating.

He unconsciously reached up to brush the spot. He had read it a thousand times, in the middle of the night and at day’s break. The script has been shaky, the ink smeared near the end but it was beautiful to him.

_You are so strong, I see you struggling alone and I wish I could help you. If only I could hold you close and sooth away the worry with a thousand kisses. My hands are weathered but willing to carry all your burdens. You are the heat of the desert and the deadly power of a sandstorm, a falling star that blazes bright across the sky._

_Skin sweet and brown as rich earth, glorious in the spark of the sun. Diamonds of sweat scattered across your back and clinging in the lush blanket of your hair. Each scar a story of bravery and struggle, overcome with teeth and nail, I love to map the constellations over your body. I will take shelter in the dip of your waist, the heft of your arm, lose myself forever in the valley of your mouth._

_I wish I could tell you how I feel._

Jesse sighed around his cigar, wanting to return to base in case there was another letter for him. If it was a joke, the temptation to believe was too strong to resist. He longed to be the version of himself this person saw.

Gorgeous and handsome as a mountain waterfall.

“McCree, we are pulling out.”

“En route to the carrier.”

The ride back was long and he sat as far as he could away from Hanzo. They had not spoken since he made a fool of himself on christmas. If he was being honest, he missed their conversations.

He made the first move to reconcile, the ache of rejection softened in his chest. Someone out there thought he was worth loving, despite what he was and what he had done.

“Jesse,” the word falling from Hanzo’s lips in surprise when they met.

“Howdy, Hanzo.”

Jesse removed his hat, holding it in his unoccupied hand. “Just wanted t’apologize for how I acted. I ain’t proud of it so… please accept this.”

He offered the wrapped box, telling himself his hands were not shaking.

“It is…” Hanzo sighed, shoulders loosening some of it’s rigid posture. “Thank you Jesse, I do not wish this to darken our friendship.”

“Me neither.” Jesse ruffled the hair on the back of his head. “Join me for a movie t’night?”

“Can you wrestle the big screen away from Hana and Lucio?” Hanzo laughed, sending shivers down Jesse’s spine.

“Huh, hadn’t thought of that.” He had, of course, thought of it. “Guess we could watch it in my room. Got a old flat screen in there. Nothing fancy--”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Jesse’s heart jumped. “Boy Howdy.”

Hanzo chuckled, deep and rich fit to make Jesse’s head spin. “What movie shall we watch?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Ah, I see. I will make my selection before this evening then.” Hanzo tilted his head to the side, bangs falling across his face. His cheeks were pink. “I look forward to spending time with you.”

The rest of the day went by in a flash and soon Jesse was dusting his bedspread off. He had snacks on the night table and a bottle of whiskey he’d smuggled in. His room hadn’t needed much tidying but he’d dusted anyway and put away some of his clutter.

It was all paying off now as Hanzo climbed into his bed. He was wearing his casual prosthetics, synthetic rubber toes curling in pleasure as he popped a hi-chew candy into his mouth. They had decided on a vintage action adventure movie. They could enjoy making fun of the inaccuracies and talk through it without missing much of the plot.

It was comfortable, laughing together and fumbling to chase lost milkduds across the sheets. Crumbs caught in beard hair and a splash of whiskey soaked Hanzo’s tshirt at the hollow of his throat. Jesse ached to lean over the shorter man and press his lips to it and drink from the sacred pool.

“What are you looking at, cowboy?” Hanzo’s words were husky, lighting fires in Jesse’s core.

“Just you,” He countered, unable to find a lie. Not that Hanzo looked upset to be curled in Jesse’s bed, half under the covers with heavy lidded eyes.

“Do you like what you see?”

Jesse gulped, fighting down the fierce craving to taste the man next to him. Perhaps he had been wrong, to think Hanzo was repulsed by his interest.

“You’re gorgeous, Han.” He rumbled, sliding his hand over the covers to rest on Hanzo’s thigh. The muscles flexed at the touch, tensing hard before relaxing. Jesse kneaded at it softly, eyes wandering his companion’s face. “Got the cutest nose.”

“What?” Hanzo snorted, making his nose crinkle.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jesse cupped Hanzo’s face, his thumb brushing gently along the regal plane to the delicate tip. “Cutest thing I ever did see.”

Jesse felt the alcohol in his veins and heard the static of the finished movie vaguely in the dark room. The desire thick in his groin, he wanted to drown himself in Hanzo.

“You are drunk again.”

“Nah, just tipsy,” Jesse brushed his finger down the underside of his nose, then lightly against the cupid’s bow of his lips. “But I’m willing to pretend otherwise.”

“You will regret it in the morning.” Hanzo’s hands were on his shoulders, searing brands.

“But will you?”

Hanzo did not answer but Jesse’s bed was cold that night.

In the morning, there was a letter under his door. It was only seven words but they cut him.

_I love you. I am a fool._

 

Letter Six

Jesse walked through January and February in a haze of non stop missions and near death experiences. And Hanzo. Dancing around each other with teasing words and carefully crafted moments of friendship.

Hanzo was asleep next to him in the transport, bundled up in civilian clothes. The wide cowled jacket hid most of his face, hood pulled up. His nose tip stuck out, cherry red in the icy carrier. The heating system couldn’t keep up with the frigid temperatures.

Only Mei and Zarya seemed comfortable. Mei was swinging her feet as they carried on an animated conversation, breath huffing out in clouds.

Hanzo shifted, wincing as he stretched his legs and kneaded at his knees. Jesse understood his discomfort, rubbing his own prosthetics where it joined his arm. The metal painfully cold, biting at flesh and Jesse sighed. He needed to pick up an oversized glove to cover it if they were going to be doing more missions in subzero temperatures.

“Here,” Hanzo’s voice was raw from a cough that had been passing through the team for a week as he offered his thick black scarf. “Wrap your arm in this.”

“Nah, you need it more, Darlin’.” Jesse tried to push it away, their fingers brushing in the gesture. A pleasant tingle of warmth raced down his spine and he longed to wrap their half numb hands around each other. “Your hands are like ice.”

“They feel frozen,” Hanzo agreed amiably, raising his free one to tuck under his armpit.

Jesse nodded and pulled away. He missed the look of lose on Hanzo’s face as he dragged his padded, insulated serape off. A shiver threatened to crack his body into pieces and he quickly spread the garment over himself and Hanzo.

The man’s eyes were cast down, red on his cheeks not entirely from the cold but when Jesse slide his arm around his shoulders, Hanzo pressed into his side. They shared a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Hanzo murmured, sliding down till only his eyes showed above the edge. Jesse reached to gather both of the man’s frozen hands, sliding one to rest between his warm thighs. Innocent and sweet, offering his body’s heat, he held the other in his hand. Their gloves shed to press raw, cold chapped hands together.

It eased the sting and they rested in the moment. Hanzo’s head buried in his shoulder and Jesse rested his cheek on the top of his head. His heart throbbed dully, aching for more than this easy friendship.

He wished that Hanzo was the one writing him letters. Even if it had been months since the last one. The thought haunted him through the flight and even while they were debriefing. The two outdated heros barely awake to give their report.

Jesse was the one to help Hanzo to his room this time, arm slung around his waist. “I will have to consult with Dr. Ziegler, about my prosthetics freezing up with drastic temperature changes.”

“MMhmm,” Jesse hummed in the back of his throat. He focused on getting Hanzo out of his dirty clothes and into his signature fleece pajamas.

“I do not need your help,” Hanzo chuckled, raising his arms to let Jesse pull off his underarmor shirt. It clung to him and they struggled.

“I know.” Jesse tugged harder and the shirt gave. Sliding up and Hanzo’s head popped out. He was smiling lazily, giving a long slow sigh. He was not sure why he was doing this, just a dull longing to care for the powerful archer. Even if it was symbolic only.

Hanzo unclipped his sharp metal legs, whimpering as the connection hissed and released. Jesse knelt beside hanzo’s knees, easing the heavy weight away. He set them both in the closet and fetched his friend’s casual legs.

“Leave them, i’m too tired.” Hanzo called, already buried under a mountain of blankets.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Jesse set the elegant prosthetics by the bedside table within easy reach. “Breakfast tomorrow?”

“I’m cold, Jesse.”

“Want me to turn up the heat?” he glanced to the little termostat by the door.

“Get in bed with me. You are a furnace.”

Heat charged through him, from his toes to his ears. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Just as friends,” Hanzo reached to grab his hand, weakly tugging at the digits.

Jesse gulped, looking down for a long moment. “Okay, just as friends darlin’. I’m tired too.”

He shed his clothes and slid into a borrowed oversized shirt and pair of sweats. They were both a bit short but he didn’t mind. The warmth shared between them made up for the draft as they curled in bed together.

At first it was back to back, easy to keep his thoughts clean. But sometime during the night, Hanzo rolled over to embrace him. A strong arm tossed over his waist, broad palm planted directly over his heart.

Jesse couldn’t help but curve into Hanzo, settling his plump ass against Hanzo’s lap. They were joined as close as they could get by the morning, drifting in blissful warmth. Hanzo’s was face buried against the back of his neck and shoulder. Jesse’s cheek pressed into his thick bicep for a pillow and a thick, hard press of Hanzo’s morning problem nestled against the underside of his ass.

Jesse wormed back into it in his sleep. A delicious, longed for sensation just begging to be explored but  when Jesse woke, he was alone. There was a cup of coffee on the bedside table though, made up just how he liked it with cream and sugar.

It was perfect on his tongue and he pushed through the haze of waking quicker than normal. Left alone in the room, he debated if he should leave or stay. If Hanzo would return or this was his signal to leave and get going for the day.

He puttered around the room, taking in a few pictures of the shimada brothers and scenic landscapes. He had a display shelf that Jesse was familiar with, lit up to display his classic video game memorabilia.

Jesse wandered to the writing desk tucked into the corner, looking to write a note. He figured it would be a good manners.

As soon as he picked up a sheet of crisp white paper, his heart stopped.

_Could it be?_

He dropped the paper like he had been burned, not daring to believe it could be true. He fled the room, darting down the hall to his own room. He didn’t care that Hana saw him with his shirt riding over his hips, her teasing white noise.

Sitting on his pillow, was a white envelope. It held the sixth letter he had received.

_I long to hold you close, to kiss the freckles on your nose and make you laugh till my ears ring. You endure like a sacred flame, roaring in the night and leading me close. I ache to worship at the altar of your heart, to give my offerings in a torrent of praise like flowers from my lips. I would write a song upon your body, my fingers the pen and sing for you until my throat is raw. My body weak and aching around you, begging to be filled again with your blessing until we tumble from heaven together._

Jesse clutched the letter to his chest, fingers stroking along the paper. Was it the same? He wasn’t sure but every part of him longed for it to be true. It had to be, there could be no one else that would spend months courting him. It had to be Hanzo.

_Please god, let it be Hanzo._

 

_-_

Letter Seven

Jesse’s hands here shaking, holding a crumpled envelope to his chest. It had rode with him through bloody missions and long stakeouts alone, a shield over his heart. He did not dare give it to his best friend, afraid he would lose the man if Hanzo was not the writer of the letters.

Even now, the man slept at his side while Jesse kept watch on the target’s hideout. Bitter cold seeped into their skin and all the thermal gear in the world could not keep it out. A small heater burned at their feet in the ancient hunting stand high in the trees. A sniper rifle rested easily on his shoulder and a flask of whiskey kept his chest burning.

It was hard to keep his eyes from wandering to his companion. They danced endlessly and there were many stepped-on toes. Jesse knew it was his fault, always holding a piece of himself back. Unable to fully let himself fall for Hanzo and the man felt it.

There was no resolution to their flirting or the clinging needy touches that left them both confused and desperate but alone in their frustration.

 

Jesse sighed into the darkness of the safe house, snow falling heavily outside. It was warm here and the fire roared in the hearth. A kettle sang on the stove and Hanzo was busy measuring tea leaves. Golden bits of nanites swirled in the water as the steeped tea filled two coffee cups. They were chipped and old, taken from a thrift store with cash.

“Drink.”

Jesse took the cup, settled on the rug in front of the fire. There was bits of pine in his hair from their hike through the woods. His armor plate was drying nearby along with his quilted serape. The letter tucked into his hoodie pocket where it simmered with promise.

“Thanks,” Jesse glanced up, relieved to see Hanzo’s smiling face. He took the mug and sipped carefully at the steaming liquid.

They sat together for a long time, the gears slowly turning in Jesse’s head. There might never be a better or worse time to put “Your hair is like the night sky,” He murmured the words into his mug, face burning.

“You are oddly poetic tonight.” Hanzo nudged him with his shoulder, their mugs sloshing.

“Just been reading some poems lately.”

“Of what nature?”

“Love.”

Hanzo had stilled, frozen despite the warmth of the fire. He did not look up from his mug. There was a piece of a leaf stuck in his hair. Jesse carefully reached over, plucking it from the dark strands and tucking it into his pocket.

“I’ll cook dinner,” Jesse spoke into the quiet, chickening out at the last moment. The letter remained tucked into his hoodie.

 

Jesse chewed his lip, standing in front of Hanzo’s door in the middle of the night, letter in hand. He was leaving in just a few hours for a long undercover mission. There would be no contact for most of it and his chances of returning seemed slim in the briefing packet.

He had done this many times before, sent into the center of hellfire. It had always made sense before. There was no one that would miss him when he was gone, other than a few members of the team. He could take risks no one else would.

But now, as he turned the crumpled and smoothed envelope in his hands, he feared for the future. He might never get a chance to tell Hanzo how he felt or find out if he really was the same person that had written him six letters over six months.

He could slide the envelope under the door and leave, avoiding whatever Hanzo’s reaction no matter what it was. It would be safest that way, and if he made it back in one piece, Hanzo could tell him if he felt the same. Or pretend nothing had happened.

Jesse closed his eyes, squeezed tightly shut and rested his forehead against the cool metal.

This time, taking the easy route burned his guts and he knew what he had to do. He was a risk taker with his life. It was time to do the same with his heart.

Knocking quietly, he was prepared to wait for Hanzo.

The door hissed open a few seconds later and Hanzo appeared. Disheveled and disoriented, his hair was wild and red lines from the pillow’s wrinkles did nothing to mar his features. “Jesse? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Darlin’,” Jesse swallowed around a mouthful of cotton. “Sorry t’worry you.”

Hanzo blinked mulishly at him, some of the haze leaving his eyes. “Then what brings you here?” His gaze fell to the envelope and a soft intake of breath sent heat to Jesse’s face.

“I...can i come in?” His heart thundered, painful against his sternum.

“Yes.”

The dark held their unspoken thoughts, sitting on the edge of the bed together, not quite touching. Jesse stared at his hands, laced tightly together. Metal and flesh, only one betraying the whirlwind inside him.

He itched for a smoke or a shot of whisky, anything to dull the feeling. His mouth was dry and he tried to work moisture into it. The calm of the room helping to slowly ease some of the panic. Familiar knick knacks caught the dull light from the window and the white sheets glowed around them.

“I’m… shipping out tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t know if i’ll make it back.” Jesse took a deep breath, chest aching at the strain. “I don’t wanna die without--”

“No.”

Jesse stopped, mouth clicking shut at the fervor in the man’s eyes. Wild and bright like a swirling night sky, they pulled him in like gravity. He was lost to it, a star falling across the heavens.

“Do not speak of such things. Do not let it shadow this moment.”

Agony flared in his chest, crystalline spears piercing him. His hands clenched into fists, mental one groaning under the strain.

“I’m sorry,” jesse whispered, a void opening inside and threatening to swallow him whole. “I didn’t mean… I just.” He looked down at the letter crushed in his metal fist as the first tears overflowed and fell to the dirty paper. “Forget it. Just forget it.”

He thrust to his feet, staggering to find his balance. Hanzo behind him, unmoving on the bed. Jesse paused, the shame hot and wet on his cheeks. “Just… I love you and I’m sorry.” He ran like a fool, out of the door and down the hall. He skidded on the smooth tile and smacked into the wall before darting away.

It was late and there was no one to stop him.

The night air burned his face, bitterly cold with shards of ice whipped through it like knives. He only had his hoodie on but he couldn’t feel it anyway. A frozen statue on the walkway between two towers, he could only stare off into the blackness. Dim pools of light scattered below and around by the flashing lights of the control towers.

No one could hear the sounds that fell from his lips as bits of broken glass. He was a fool. A fool in love that had nothing to give to a man that didn’t want him. It ached, deep within him as if his very bones crumbled into nothing.

 

\--

 

Jesse climbed to his feet slowly, stiff and sore, and looked down at the base below. He needed to go pack and try to sleep before the transport left. Who knew the next time he could get some shut eye without worrying about never waking up again?

“If you take a single step, I will kill you.”

Jesse jumped half out of his skin, feet sliding in the iced-over walkway as he whipped to face Hanzo Shimada. His thin pajamas were plastered to his body by the wind and sleet, hair in his face and gasping for breath. A crumpled letter was clutched in his hand and fury etched into every hard line of his body.

“I ain’t jumping.” Jesse stepped away from the edge, heart lodged in his throat.  “Hanzo … what are you doing? You’re not wearing any shoes.”

The man’s bare feet were dirty from running through the base, and frost was quickly gathering on the silicone prosthetics.

“You… you idiot!” Hanzo started towards him like a bull charging a matador. “Why did you … why are you out here catching your death? How dare you run away!”

Hanzo barreled into him, knocking him half a step back. Jesse braced on the slippery metal, arms wrapping tight around the shivering form. Iron arms crushed him, the archer’s strength overwhelming, and something small and scared inside him sighed in relief.

“Darlin’, you dun gotta do this,” he murmured, fighting back the chatter in his teeth. “I don’t blame ya for not wantin’ me and I didn’t mean to-”

Hanzo surged up, frozen mouth crushing to his, and Jesse saw stars. A burning inferno erupted inside him as he held onto the man he loved, and all he could do was accept the offering. A raging energy that flooded to his very toes came next, and he stooped to bury his face into Hanzo’s icy neck.

“Fuck.”

“Yes.” Hanzo’s teeth chattered viciously now, lips turning blue by degrees. “Inside. Now.”

Jesse nodded, head floating somewhere high above his body as they scurried to the door and slipped into the base’s warm halls. A giddy laugh bubbled up, tears trying to form, and he told himself it was from the sudden heat.

They were quiet as they hurried to Jesse’s room, arms looped around each other for warmth, and piled in as soon as the door hissed open. Shedding wet and snowy clothes haphazardly and Hanzo nearly tripped getting his sodden pants past his prosthetics, they quickly dove for the lush piles of blankets.

“Angela’s gonna kill you for getting your feet wet,” Jesse laughed as he burrowed under the heavy blankets in just his boxers, and Hanzo joined him with a snort.

“She can try. I was in a hurry. Because someone ran out without explanation.”

Jesse couldn’t tear his eyes away as Hanzo dropped to the bed, shucking his legs to the floor without a care. He turned to slide beneath the blankets, shaking like a leaf.

Jesse hissed and jerked away as an icy hand settled on his side. “None of that.” He swatted the offending hands away with his flesh one before deciding to remove his own prosthetic. It clunked onto the bedside table and he rolled back to face the man of his dreams.

They had done this so many times, nose to nose in the comforting heat of each other’s body, not quite bridging the gap. Jesse slowly shifted his legs, brushing them against Hanzo’s, and they settled together. The burning heat of his groin radiated against his thigh, and Hanzo’s strong arm went around his waist.

Jesse shuddered at the cold, arching away from it. “I’mma kick you out of bed.”

“Take responsibility for what you have done.” Hanzo knocked him onto his back and climbed on top, tugging the covers up to his ears and laying down to press their stomachs and chests together. Jesse could only stare up at the archer. “You idiot.” Hanzo muttered before he hid his face in Jesse’s shoulder, a wing tickling Jesse’s nose.

“Guess… it was my fault for jumpin’ to conclusions.”

Jesse hesitantly looped his good arm over Hanzo’s waist, marveling at how smooth his skin was. The heat flooded between them, trapped by the covers, and the chattering of teeth slowly fell away.

“ _You pointed the gun, to my budding heart. The barrel smokes.”_ Jesse’s voice barely made it from his chest, a rumble of fear and hope and need. Murmuring the words into Hanzo’s ear from memory, each letter etched upon his heart.

Hanzo pressed a kiss to the tender spot below his jaw. “ _I burn.”_ Another soft press of chapped lips and prickle of beard hair. “I have burned for you and only you, like the desert sun longing to warm you.”

“Why’d you wait so long?” Jesse whispered against the man’s temple, heart aching with the strain of hope growing.

“I did not think you would accept my love. I did not know you were… interested in men until Christmas, and then I feared you only lusted for me. Or were too drunk to know what you wanted.”

“Never, darlin’.’ Jesse pressed his eyes closed and took a steadying breath. “What made you come after me?”

Jesse yelped as an ice cold finger jabbed his cheek and quickly looked at his companion. Hanzo’s brows met above his nose but a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth undercut the appearance of anger.

“You are a fool to think I would let you walk into a deadly mission without clearing the air between us. I am not going to let you go without finding out how you feel about me and ensure that your letter could not be misinterpreted”

“I am a fool, Hanzo,” Jesse reminded him but the smile on his lips could have lit up the room. “Guess that makes me a fool for you.”

“Yes, you are.” Hanzo chuckled, and the sound vibrated into Jesse’s core.

 

They stayed together in the comfort of their bodies, kissing softly between murmured confessions and sleepy dreams of the future. The bubble of hope kept them safe, and they pretended that they would not soon be parted to walk a bloody path.

 

Jesse woke alone to the blaring of his alarm, and the bed had never felt colder. It seemed to stretch away, an endless empty expanse. He shook his head, half afraid he had dreamed the whole night with Hanzo and confessing and spending hours pressed flush to each other.

A needy sound trickled from his lips, missing the comfort of Hanzo’s presence already. The months would be long and lonely, and if he made it back, would things have changed?

He didn’t have time to sulk, throwing his gear into a duffel and double checking his gun’s kit. Extra munitions and a few spare parts went into inner pockets before he turned to his few personal items. The serape his mother had made him, the gold watch Ana had given him when he signed on to Blackwatch so many years ago, and the only picture he had of Hanzo and him.

The trek to the transport bay seemed too short, passing the rooms of his teammates. A few were up early, but most would sleep for a few more hours. There was no goodbye party, no fanfare, and Jesse made it to the ship without running into another soul.

The ramp was down and he climbed it slowly, pausing near the top to look back at the base. The sun’s first rays were cresting the ocean’s lip. It cast the steel and gray into soft peaches and rose, as if carved from desert sandstone.

Jesse tipped his hat silently to those within, heart aching that Hanzo was warm and safe in his own bed. Soon to rise and take his tea, somewhere he could watch the sun slowly burn off the ice and snow.

“Goodbye, Hanzo,” he murmured, kissing his gloved fingers and pressing them over his heart.

It was time to walk into the lion’s den.

“You would wear that atrocious hat, even undercover.”

Jesse turned slowly to face the dark inside, stepping past the edge of shadow. His eyes took a moment to adjust, and he blinked away stars. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.” he rumbled the words, making his way over to the archer in civilian clothes. His bow was beside him, packed and ready to travel, and a green duffle sat between his feet.

“I cannot let my boyfriend get murdered in the field, can I?”

“Reckon you’ve got the right idea, pardner.”

  



End file.
